A Corpse's Letter
by Be-ya
Summary: /RyoSaku/One-shot/ It was when he found out that he would be celebrating his birthday with a corpse inside his house.


**Title: **A Corpse's Letter

**Summary: **/RyoSaku/ It was when he found out that he would be celebrating his birthday with a corpse inside his house.

**A/N: ***sighs* Okay. Shoot me with a gun. Right. Yes, I know I'm running a bit late but I still wanted to give Ryoma a birthday present =P may this count as a New Year gift as well? Anyhow, this is the very first time I'm writing a _one-shot_ fiction so I hope you won't be very disappointed. This story came when I was lying on my bed three in the morning thinking of some ways to bring my love back for Prince of Tennis. I threaded up my raw materials – a song and some random text message – and then come up with nothing XD so yeah. Here goes the "tinapa" as a birthday present for my ever so loved anime-fiction character.

**Thanks to: **Akemi-chan for editing, Sai-chan for the advices and to Conan-kun for the concept of the "corpse"

**0.0**

_"Better late than never..."_

**0.0**

It all started in the twenty-second of December…

Echizen Ryoma stared blankly at the ceiling as he waited for sleep to find its way to him.

_Remember, depression kills people._

Yes, he remembered. The sadistic and despicable Fuji Syuusuke. His words kept the rhythm of a defective CD player that he wanted to tune it out. He tried to shake it off but it was no avail. He sighed and continued to let his mind wander aimlessly to find something else of worth interest.

_Miruyama Ai, freshman, class A._

Unfortunately, there was none. The image of that woman kept bugging him. How she stuttered and confessed her undying love. How he rejected her as she said sorry for the ruckus that she had made. It surprised him considering that he wasn't one to remember everything. Especially since female species were very superficial.

_Meow._

"Karupin…"

Oddly, he felt guilty. Not that it was the very first time he said a no. He just felt restless and it upset him to know that it was because of a girl.

The cat jumped and rubbed himself affectionately to its master. Ryoma smiled, this would help him a bit to save himself from all the remorse that was getting the better of him (or not). He found a strange pink envelope held neatly by a red ribbon tied around his cat's neck.

"Oyaji," he whispered angrily.

No girls and guilt but many "Nanjirou". He didn't see any difference. It appeared worse even. He untied the band thinking that his father might want to strangle his cat.

_Meow._

"What?" Ryoma asked feeling slightly stupid.

Just great. Now he was talking to himself. _Meow. _It sounded that the cat wanted him to read the letter. It was an absurd idea but could be possible nonetheless. He thought twice but then decided not, knowing that if it was his father's idea, it would be something really stupid.

_Meow._

"Not now Karupin," Ryoma pleaded.

He wasn't really the most diligent person in the whole world. Reading pink and scented materials weren't just his pursuit. Who knew if his father was hiding somewhere waiting for him to fall to his crap? He wouldn't take the risk to be satirized by the perverted monk.

_Meow._

"C'mon," he said wearily.

His cat wouldn't let the thing left forgotten. But Karupin wouldn't write a letter to him. There were chances that it was all a prank but the pink envelope was just too neat to be his father's nasty joke. He sighed. Or was it from his mother?

"Fine," he shrugged and finally surrendered.

Carefully, he opened the lid and started skimming through the letters written tidily across the pink space.

_Dear Ryoma,_

A girl's handwriting…

_I've been watching you from afar. I could see everything about you although I knew that I was invisible myself. It might sound stupid but I was getting more obsessed, like I couldn't stop myself following you. I wanted you so badly like a drug sedating my system. I tried to tell you everything but you ignored me just as you ignored everybody else. I knew so well that this would end up like this. You would end up disliking me and wanting me to be erased from your world. But then I had to try. Think about this and you would discover how a crushed heart would destroy somebody like you. _

_I love you so much Ryoma._

_Signed, _

_Miruyama Ai_

_P.S. I'm still not over you._

He stared at the letter, nonplussed. That was good news. Now the girl was stalking him. He couldn't understand the desperation and the girl couldn't just understand that relationships weren't his priority. All girls were the same; he couldn't fathom why they even tried if they knew well in the first place that he would end up hurting them. Yet if she was a masochist, that would be a different story.

"Sleep Karupin," he commanded.

He felt irritated, really. That woman was making a big deal about something that never appealed to him. She even used his cat for crying out loud. And she thought that he would be afraid of some random threat. _A letter_. Very shallow and very immature.

_Meow._

"Forget it. I'm not interested at all," Ryoma muttered as he turned his back to his cat. "Sleep," was the last word he said before he dozed off.

**0.0**

"Oi shounen, time to get up," he heard, no, _felt_ his father.

His foot.

"Echizen Ryoma, get up," his father continued nagging and kicking him even though he twitched already and said he was awake.

"Stop it Oyaji," he said through muffled sounds.

He stayed up late since his cat couldn't stop pestering him about the petty paper. He couldn't believe it, and now that he thought about it, he couldn't even recall what it was all about. _His father._ He snapped up and regarded the older Echizen with a menacing glare.

"Hey, hey, hey. Geez, chill out shounen, I'm just trying to wake you up," Nanjirou eyed his son with mixed amusement and defense.

Ryoma's face turned reproachful then, "You didn't do anything stupid did you?" he asked accusing.

"That's rude son," the old man grinned and he _hated_ it. "What?" Nanjirou stepped back looking all…_shocked_.

He appraised his father and soon realized that the old monk didn't know anything at all, had nothing to do about the midnight commotion. He glanced sideward where he expected the pink envelope to appear but found nothing. He looked for his cat but couldn't spot anything linked as well. Was he dreaming about it then?

"Have you seen anything....pink?" he asked curiously, raising a brow at the sound of the last word.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait…we're not talking about love letters here right?" Nanjirou demanded surprisingly as his son stared at him now with unperturbed expression. "Are we?"

Ryoma groaned at his misery, "Next time make your lies more believable, Oyaji," he mocked and started towards the bathroom.

He couldn't believe his father, pushing his son to limits just so as to force him to take some time discerning the breathtakingconcept of love or the pleasing sensation of temporal desire and passion. Even gave him a letter to threaten him. His father was so juvenile (and retarded). He heaved a sigh. He was drained arguing with the old man and for once, he wanted to overlook the prank and tolerate it.

"Ryoma, breakfast's ready!" his mother called from downstairs.

It was already late for breakfast though. That was one thing he appreciated about winter vacation, waking up late. He smiled as he heard his stomach complained.

_Better late than never._

He dried himself and dressed, willing himself to run for a mouthful of scrumptious meal. He was about to race straight towards the dinning table when he overheard his father talking rather whining to Rinko.

"Ne Rinko, tell me, do you know anything that I don't?"

"You're getting so inquisitive about everything, dear," his mother replied unenthusiastically.

"About everything? I thought I'm just asking about our son's affairs!" he defended. "Here's the story, he asked me about something _pink_, I thought it was a letter and he suddenly accused me of being a liar. What the heck is happening to our son? Say…you think he's in drugs?"

Though he abhorred the idea, he had to admit that Nanjirou was by any means…_innocent_.

"I'm not in drugs Oyaji," he answered and sat adjacent to his startled father.

"Oh…" he shot him an unconvinced look and insisted "So…what happened?"

"Forget it."

"You're getting ruder every time I see you son," Nanjirou commented.

Ryoma grinned back and answered, "I'll take that as a compliment."

After he finished his breakfast, Ryoma headed back to his room. He still wondered, not that he was in the slightest bit concerned, but it wasn't his father and not his mother, definitely not his cousin. He trailed deliberately to weigh his own theory. It wouldn't be Miruyama Ai herself since the letter came almost twelve midnight and it was silly that she came to order his cat to deliver her simple note. That was certainly illogical but not impossible though.

The mystery was pretty appealing as he chewed over the details. He laughed inwardly at the farce. _Detective Echizen_. Wow, quite a fit. He attempted to strip more information but froze when he took notice of an envelope- the pink little thing that he was looking for- pinned between the doors of his closet. He blinked and stabbed to reassure himself if it was for real.

"So it's here," he murmured blandly as he took the envelope by hand.

The streaks of red that was tinted on all sides of the cover were much too obvious to dispense. He opened it- eager himself to continue his private game- to skim yet again through the notes, expecting sufficient traces that would lead him towards probable answers. Immediately, he wrinkled his nose at the scent…of blood.

Now _this_ is intriguing.

_I was utterly impressed that you still had the desire to open this. _

A new letter.

_This was all you wanted. You're contented aren't you? The thought that I'm lying cold while you're reading the futility that I'd spent all nights thinking of… that this very letter was from my blood… that this would be all over. Well you're definitely wrong. Some things just don't end. I'd be pleased to ask for the payment. Since you're the prodigy, I'd be expecting that you knew well what I was talking about. You've taken life and it would be life to compensate everything. _

_Still and will always love you._

_Signed,_

_Miruyama Ai_

_P.S. I'm still not over you. _

He thought for a moment. The girl was beyond the line. She was messing with him and there was definitely no point to it. He couldn't understand her. Was she trying to force him? To love her? What? For one day? Then a break up? Or would he be able to satiate her hunger? For more? Longer? And then give up tennis afterwards?

Undeniably, no.

"Childish," he whispered harshly.

_You've taken life and it would be life to compensate everything._

**0.0**

Twenty-fourth of December.

It had been three days and he still wasn't certain on whoever the sender was. After more attempts he finally gave up. He would suffer for something that would help him not the least bit. Though much to his own chagrin, he was waiting for more.

But there came nothing.

He lay in his bed once again. His parents were out to buy some grocery stuffs and his cousin was elsewhere for something like a thesis paper. He wondered why Nanjirou suddenly became all clingy and insisted to come with Rinko. Old men these days were just too unpredictable.

He planned to hit some balls but it was too cold outside and he wouldn't want to risk getting a cold so he ended up in his room. It had been two hours yet he was still alone. No signs of his cousin, his pestering father or the call of his mother.

_You've taken life and it would be life to compensate everything._

Though he tried to disregard it, the edge to the message that she wanted to convey had bothered him in some ways. Whether dead or alive, he didn't care. He wasn't really a fan of menacing threats. Not that he was afraid. But he loved vanity and he was still sane to tell his father to be careful because he had received some random warning from a vengeful fan girl or whatnot. He could imagine the old man guffawing at his own son's hopeless disgrace.

He still considered further assumptions despite the fact that she actually used blood for real. He could remember the smell of the gore painted untidily across the pink material and the oddest way the letters had reached him. He sighed. Maybe she was watching him right now.

Good. Now he was having paranoia.

Then there came a thud at the door. Trice and then there was silence. Of course, they had forgotten to bring the key and would be anticipating for his warm welcome in no time. Though disgruntled, he was relieved that his father was there to marginally distract him. So he stood up unwillingly and dragged himself sluggishly towards the door.

Nevertheless, it seemed that his predictions were wrong, "Ryuuzaki," the name came as soon as he opened the door.

Her eyes stared shyly as she greeted with her usual timid voice, "Hi Ryoma-kun."

He raised a brow, a tad curious how the girl reached his house without getting lost and her excuse for coming in the first place, "And you're here because…?"

She eyed him blankly and lent the box she held carefully by her hands, "I want to give you this."

"For…?" he asked as he extended his arms to receive it.

"For you, a birthday present," she simply answered, almost patronizing.

Now that she mentioned it, "It's my birthday?" he asked, rather surprised.

Her face suddenly broke to a staggered look, "Yo-you don't kno-know that it's your birthday to-today?" she turned pale the moment she finished her sentence, covering her mouth, looking all petrified. She tensed and spun around as if looking for somebody.

"You…all right?" he queried, his tone inserted a minor timbre of concern in it.

She gave him the same horrified look, "I'm fine, really," she murmured almost inaudibly far from the worry that he read across her face as she lurched inside the house without a word.

Ryoma gazed inquisitively at her wobbly figure while the girl sat down and muttered unfathomable words, creasing her forehead as if berating herself. Had he asked her to come in anyway? He sighed but then decided not to mind and closed the door.

"Hungry?" he inquired dully as he settled himself beside the fidgety girl.

"No," she uttered, surprised by his abrupt presence. "Where is the comfort room?"

He nodded towards its whereabouts as her eyes voluntarily followed the sight pointed at the right corner of the house. She rose from her seat and raced for it quickly; her body trembled and wobbled as she motioned giving him the smallest desire to follow. When he was about to go, his phone harshly stopped him midway, startling and baffling him as he took notice of whose number it was.

"Ryuuzaki-sensei," he said, already formulating an explanation to offer once asked.

"Ryoma," the old woman called half tensed and half frantic. "My granddaughter…Sakuno," she trailed hesitantly and then he heard a sniff.

"She's here," he replied apathetic despite the coach's hysteria. "At the comfort room though," he added, glancing sideward.

"She...what? Are you…sure? She shouldn't be…there," the other line cracked a background of panic.

"I'll take her home," he instantaneously responded sounding defensive even to him self.

He heard another sniff, louder this time, "How?" the older Ryuuzaki noted.

"By…walking?" he almost spurted a laugh.

"No, you can't, because she's… here at the hospital…dead," the old woman spoke the words as if a forbidden expression, her voice breaking at the end of her statement.

"She's here," he repeated glancing towards the place where he last saw her.

He heard a gasp before the comprehensible words surfaced in, "A van…crushed her--"

She tried to explain but was cut short when Ryoma confirmed, "She's…dead?" his voice cold and impenetrable.

Before the older Ryuuzaki could have said anything he gave a low "I'll call you back," and then hung up. The pink envelope per se, which was situated atop the pink box Sakuno gave him, had his attention for once. The blood gusted violently at the paper that the letters were virtually indecipherable.

_Of all people…why her? She was never different from us…from me. But you picked someone who would never deserve you. What was in her that wasn't in me anyway? I could always do so much better Ryoma but you chose to ignore me. She sucked at everything while I was on top. I could be anyone you ever wanted. I could make you happy…almost. But you only saw her, eat the food that she gave, teach her tennis, talk to her, treat her specially- you loved her- though she had nothing. How was it to know that you would never have her? How did it feel to lose the opportunity to tell her? How about to realize that it was too late and the feeling that you could never avenge for her? To know that it was your fault that she was killed?_

_I would be happy to see you suffering._

_Though I would always love you._

_Happy birthday, Ryoma._

_Signed,_

_Miruyama Ai_

_P.S. I'm still not over you. _

"I…love her." He still appeared indifferent though.

"Ryoma-kun?"

He attempted to form something sensible from the whole thing that was written on the paper but found nothing obvious aside the fact that he was told to be in love to Ryuuzaki. That he only saw _her_, which pretty much seemed to be the core of jealousy. Miruyama had indicated every piece she could that aided the veracity of her accusation even if he hadn't noticed that it meant the way she had perceived it all. Even so, he found that she had the point. He treated Ryuuzaki indeed differently from the way he regarded others, although he was sure that he wasn't even aware of it in the first place.

"Ryoma-kun?" she called yet again.

He finally raised his head for the first time after the long contemplation.

Surreal, she looked paler and her wrist had a ribbon that he hadn't fail to notice, the red band that only a person destined to be inside a morgue could have. He looked at her blankly as she approached him hesitantly and reached to touch his face. But in the end, it was her to be surprise when he jerked the extended (cold) hand and pulled her to a hug. She had all the props but missed the only thing.

"Your hands are cold but I wonder why the temperature is exactly different with your _body_," he whispered sensually sending shivers down her spine.

"Ryo—Ryo…ma-ku--," she stammered but lost her words when he nibbled her right ear, the wetness of his breath freezing her in place.

"Tell me it's a prank," he demanded, his hand moved for her waist.

She squirmed, "N-no…"

"I'd tell you I fell for it," he offered, his voice so tempting that she found it too dazzling to resist.

But she still insisted, "N-no, Ryo-Ryoma-kun..."

Her characterization failed things altogether.

"No ghost stutters Ryuuzaki," she gasped when she promptly realized what he meant. "Now how does it feel to find that you're not convincing at all?"

She tried to push him but he tugged her firmly, "O-okay…s-stop…it is, it is," she finally surrendered, feeling his lips forming a triumphant smirk. Then he eventually let her go, her eyes looking down at her own shaking hands intently. "So-sorry," she faltered her apology as if in agony.

"For what?" he asked dumbly when all was completely clear.

"For ruining you birthday and wasting your time," she apparently look as if she wanted to dig a hole and burry herself alive.

Ryoma watched her tortured expression with amusement, "Don't," he amended. The girl tilted her head bewilderingly not sure what he was seeking to imply. Then as the sharp question was probed there came an immediate answer.

To Sakuno's surprise his hand pulled her once again, closer…tighter…with desire and impatience this time, their lips nearly sealed a warm kiss, "You top it off actually," and then the door banged loudly, the sound droning with the sound of giggles and a birthday song.

Now _spoiling _his birthday present.

**0.0**

In the end, they told him everything. It was Fuji's plan after all. He collaborated with his father and told him to send all of the vengeful fan girl's letters. On the other hand Miruyama Ai said she was sorry for all the threats, she happened to be one of Tomoka's subordinates. She noted that she was mercilessly ordered by Eiji with all of the seductive pretenses that she had plainly reveled in. Ryoma also found out that the blood that was used for the entire thing was from Inui's laboratory.

They couldn't believe that Ryoma never took it seriously.

"An animal?" he laughed derisively. "Ryuuzaki-sensei's hysteria wasn't credible enough," he spat as he took a mouthful of cake. "Oyaji was way too obvious," The old man pouted at his son's harsh comments as he drowned himself miserably with gloom in the corner "And…Ryuuzaki particularly wasn't any help at all."

"But how did the second letter came?" he paused to analyze and muttered silently, "Oyaji was with me."

"I put it Ryoma-san," Nanako replied teasingly. "You didn't notice ne? We figure that uncle delivering the notes all through out will be very dangerous since you don't trust him at all. Or even suspecting him in the first place. You know, he won't just stop talking about the pink letters."

"Shut up!" the older Echizen hollered and continued sulking.

Ryoma couldn't help shrugging but then pulled a smile, and he had to admit that this had been the most memorable birthday he ever had.

~End

**0.0**

**Date Published: **January 02, 2009


End file.
